Differential Equations

By Lazette Gifford

Sixteen-year-old Faith St. Aubin -- whose mother is black and father is white -- is about to have her only-child life upset by the arrival of her cousin Logan, a skinhead whose barely polite answers and secretive actions point to a lot of trouble. How is she supposed to deal with someone like him in her own home?

But maybe things aren't as clear-cut as they seem....

• Language: English
• Publisher: A Conspiracy of Authors
• Release date: Apr 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781936507788

Lazette Gifford

Lazette is an avid writer as well as the owner of Forward Motion for Writers and the owner/editor of Vision: A Resource for Writers.It's possible she spends too much time with writers.And cats.

Book preview

Differential Equations

By

Lazette Gifford

Copyright 2018 Lazette Gifford

An ACOA Publication

www.aconspiracyofauthors.com

ISBN: 978-1-936507-78-8

Smashwords Edition

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Sixteen-year-old Faith St. Aubin -- whose mother is black and father is white -- is about to have her only-child life upset by the arrival of her cousin Logan, a skinhead whose barely polite answers and secretive actions point to a lot of trouble. How is she supposed to deal with someone like him in her own home?

But maybe things aren't as clear-cut as they seem....

Copyright 2018, Lazette Gifford, All Rights Reserved

ISBN: 978-1-936507-78-8

Cover Art copyright 2018, Lazette Gifford, All Rights Reserved

Published by A Conspiracy of Authors www.aconspiracyofauthors.com

Dedication:

This one is for Margaret McGaffey Fisk, who -- even as I type this -- is talking with me about the difficulty of editing and making ourselves publish the novels. Here it is, Mar. All done.

Your turn now.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter One

January 6, 1987

Faith's world had already changed by the time she reached home, but she didn't know it when she trudged up the snow-covered walkway to the front door.

A flurry of snow followed Faith into the house, scattering flakes across the welcome mat and onto the floor. She'd only been two days back to school after the winter break, and the weather had turned bad enough that she expected a snow day or two which might give her a chance to catch up on the school work she should have done over the holidays.

The house still smelled of Christmas and she already missed the festivities and the New Years Eve party. This was the start of a whole new year, but it didn't seem much different than the old one. Maybe she needed to give it more than six days.

Faith dropped her backpack in the corner by the closet and scattering more snow around it. Hat, gloves, scarf, coat, and boots came off in quick succession and found their places on hooks over the heating vent. She'd left her house slippers by vent just inside the door and slid mostly frozen toes into that blissful warmth while a hint of the bitter cold wind seeped through the edge of the door.

Winter had hit Lakeport in full fury and it was just her luck that her father -- the principle at JFK High, where she attended school -- had gotten called out of town today and couldn't take her home as the first bad storm of the season hit. Faith thought she had that sort of luck in life.

Faith smiled at the portrait hanging to the side of the door. Until a couple years ago the oversized-photo of her parents had seemed pretentious. Now she looked at her tall, blond father and her small, black mother and understood far better. That image was a sign to anyone who entered that this was an interracial marriage, and if they had a problem they need not come inside.

Faith no longer had as much trouble with bullies and bigots as she'd had when she was younger, though people like Mitch still tried to push. She'd learned to ignore them.

Mom? I'm home! Faith shouted. She grabbed her backpack, shaking off the last of the snow, and started for the office at the back of the house where her mother did part time CPA work.

Up here, a faint voice answered from upstairs.

Faith trudged up the stairs, pausing at the landing midway to look out the round window that overlooked the street. The white flakes fell harder already. She guessed they'd probably have a foot or more of lake-effect snow by morning. She couldn't see Lake Erie through the storm, but the wind blew across that vast water, picked up the moisture, and dropped the snow along the shore. She couldn't imagine winters without this sort of weather. She even loved it -- except when she had to walk home.

Faith tossed her bag on the bed in her room. Her mother was in the guest room next door and she had packed away all the dolls that Faith kept stored on the shelves and on the bed. The sight took her completely by surprise.

What? Faith asked with a wave of her hand toward the boxes. Dust motes danced in the air, having been recently displaced. Mom?

Can you start taking the boxes downstairs for me? her mother asked, peeking out from the closet. Her normally perfect afro had flattened at the top and her glasses sat crooked on her nose.

Why? What's going on?

Your cousin Logan is coming to live with us for awhile.

Logan? She couldn't remember any Logan from their trips to Georgia to visit her mother's family. Then she remembered a Logan -- the son of her father's twin brother. That couldn't be, not the way that side of the family treated them! Logan St. Aubin?

Yes. She came out of the closet and sat on the bed, wiping her hands on her sweatshirt. Your Aunt Mary called this morning and asked if we would take Logan in for a while. Apparently, he's in some sort of trouble and she wants him out of Monterey as quickly as possible. Your father has gone to Cleveland to pick him up. If the flights are on time, and the roads don't get too bad, they should be home in time for dinner.

Tonight? Already? Faith felt as though she'd been punched.

I know this is sudden, her mother said. And a shock. It was for us, too. Mary said there was no one else she could turn to where your uncle wouldn't find him. You know how your Uncle Thomas is.

Yes, I know. Her voice betrayed the anger she had felt three years ago. When her mother started to speak, Faith shook her head. She picked up a box to carry downstairs rather than discuss that horrible memory again.

Not that Faith didn't think about it. They had gone to California to attend the funeral of Faith's grandmother, a woman she had never met, but who had at least sent friendly Christmas cards to her son, his wife, and child.

Faith trudged down one flight of stairs and glanced out the window -- the snow still fell hard -- through the kitchen to the utility room and down to the basement. Once there, she kicked open the storage door in frustration.

Her father's identical twin brother, Thomas, shared his brother's looks, but nothing more. Thomas didn't approve of his brother Patrick's marriage to -- as he had so plainly said the funeral -- that nigger woman.

Faith, standing beside her mother, had been appalled and embarrassed. When Uncle Thomas had turned his attention to her, his own son -- Logan -- had caught hold of her arm and spirited her away. They had walked down to the beach and he had taken her to see the sea lions. The memory of what his father had done always seemed to overlay those few hours with Logan.

Faith put the box down by the shelves and stared, trying to figure out what exactly made her so angry. That no one had asked her? Yes, that was part of the problem, but if they had asked, what would she have said?

No, Logan can't live with us because I'm an only child and I don't want another one here.

She wasn't a child. In a few months she'd be seventeen. She had a part time job already lined up through the summer. She had started going over lists of colleges. This was not the time to act like a child.

Faith?

She kicked at the box, her last (she told herself) childish act. Then she went back to the stairs. Her mother stood at the top, looking worried, two more boxes in her hands.

I'll get them, mom, she said and hurried up to take the boxes. She even smiled. What's for dinner?

Chili. I figured your father and Logan would like something warm. Her mother sighed and then shrugged. We couldn't say no. Mary sounded so desperate. She's had trouble with Thomas -- sometimes she calls me.

I didn't know, Faith admitted. She couldn't even remember what Aunt Mary looked like and that made her feel badly.

I think I was the only one she knew wouldn't go back to Thomas with what she said. I don't know what the problem with Logan is, though, and I'm not comfortable with this idea. If it doesn't work, Logan won't be staying here for long.

It's okay. I was just shocked. Logan was nice to me, you know. It's just that I don't know him.

Neither do we. I don't know what the problem is since Mary had barely ten minutes to arrange everything while Thomas was away, and it was clear he didn't know she intended to send Logan to us.

Oh. Doing something Uncle Thomas wouldn't like? That made Faith feel a lot better. She took the boxes of dolls and went back down the stairs. When she looked back, her mother still stood at the top of the stairs and seemed pensive. I'll come up and help with the chili as soon as I get the boxes put away. I'll make some cornbread, too.

Good. Thanks!

Mom went toward the kitchen. Faith went back to the storage area and carefully put the boxes away. She tried to think good thoughts about her cousin, but there was too much about this situation she didn't understand, and she feared there would be trouble before this visit was over.

Chapter Two

The snow continued to pile up around the front door and blew as thick as fog past the kitchen window while Faith stirred the chili yet again. Sunset had come and gone with the early winter dark settling in around the house. The wind howled outside, and her mother had lit the fireplace. Normally, Faith would have loved a night like this.

She had stopped worrying about Logan and his imminent arrival to live with them. Instead, she worried that her father might not make it home at all, with or without her cousin. Being out on the road on a day like this was dangerous. She hoped, really, to get a call soon saying they'd stopped somewhere for the night.

Faith stirred the food again and turned the heat down on the pan before she wandered into the living room. Her mother had turned on The Weather Channel and starred at the map on the screen as though deciphering some ancient text. They'd only had the new channel for a few months and Faith wasn't certain how much she trusted their reports.

Mom? I'm going to go out and shovel the driveway, so they can pull right into the garage.

Good idea. They should be here soon, she said and smiled. The weather wasn't bad coming in from Cleveland.

Faith nodded, even though they both knew that the weather in Cleveland often had little to do with what might hit closer to Lakeport.

Faith said nothing as she pulled on her boots, coat, and gloves, and wrapped a woolen scarf up over her head and around her neck. She pushed the open button for the garage and then shoved the front door open against the wind and snow. Since the house faced the direction of the lake, which was only about six blocks away, the wind had piled up a wall of snow she had to kick her way through to get to the garage and the scoop.

Then she took some of her growing frustration and fear out on the snow. She had eyed the snow blower for a moment, but the machine didn't like her much. The last time she'd used it, it had caught on fire. Her father said it wasn't her fault; there had been something in the driveway that it had sucked up with the snow.

However, that didn't explain last year when it had leapt out of her hands and run amok through the yard. It had taken half the summer for the grass to recover.

So today she attacked the snow with the scoop. Some hard work wouldn't hurt. She'd seen herself in the mirror during gym today.

The snow had started out as heavy, fluffy flakes which were always pretty to watch as they came down, but hard to move when